On identifying as an artist

For the past few weeks, I’ve been reflecting a lot on my work, and how I’m making a deliberate turn into a more artistic path. This turn is scary: how am I going to call myself an artist? How do I dare even think I can make a living out of an artistic pursuit? How can I apply such a big “label” (being an “artist”) to my humble practice?

(This may seem trivial, but my heart is racing while I type this. Please be patient with me.)

In both recordings, Lisa addresses this difficulty of identifying as an artist, and how she felt an impostor because she hadn’t attended art school and was mostly self-taught.

This made me think a lot about whether attending art school was, for me, the necessary validation to identify as an artist. And I must say: NO. Attending art school was not a factor that made me feel confident about that, quite the opposite.

Now, I don’t know how artistic education is in other countries, or even in other universities, so I can only speak of my experience at the Fine Arts Faculty of the University of Lisbon. And my experience was not great. Let me be clear about this: I believe the curriculum was comprehensive and interesting; but in the end it is always about the people, isn’t it?

I had a few excellent professors, and excellent probably does not begin to describe them. They were so keen on having the students learn and explore, they gave their everything to see that happen. Then I had several professors who were good, but not great.

And I had a some very bad professors, who were envious of students’ talents, who saw us as competition, who made sure to show their power in a demeaning way. These were the minority, but unfortunately they were assigned a large part of the curriculum of the last portion of our five year education.

So, no, art school gave me a lot of tools and some very good friends, but it didn’t help me identify as an artist, quite the opposite. These few professors made me feel like I would never ever be good enough, whatever path I would choose. At that point I was already working at a design and illustration studio where my work was appreciated, so I put these men’s words behind my back and carried on working and exploring.

A few years later, in 2007, I moved to Buenos Aires, Argentina. After the initial turmoil, I started taking a painting class, with live model, a supporting group of students of different backgrounds and a wonderful teacher. In his classes, the experience of art was very connected to the enjoyment of making it, and he just assumed that all of us, independent of skill level, were artists. This experience turned out to be pivotal in my enjoyment of making art. I still didn’t consider myself an artist, but I felt wonderful and freer than ever when playing with color and paint. It was fantastic.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago, when I had lunch with a friend and we had a conversation that sparked something in me. In short, it made me embrace embroidery as my new creative medium. Her words made me feel a wave of creative energy and I rushed back to the studio, to start right away. I immediately felt “in the zone”, and felt that flow of stitches forming shapes and things happening both in my mind and on my embroidered fabric. I dared to try something new, and dared to stretch out of my comfort zone. And as much as I still struggle to identify as an artist, I am coming to terms with exploring this new, more “artistic”, expressive, personal path, with my beloved medium of embroidery.

As a kind of conclusion, but not exactly: Lisa ends up mentioning, in her Alt Summit speech, how she had a lightbulb moment when watching a documentary about a famous artist, who, at the apex of his career, still struggled with insecurity about his work. She realized, then, that there may never be a moment when she feels she has “arrived”. I’m glad to know this, because it frees me from pursuing an end, instead focusing on the process of creating and exploring.